This weekend we all learned something. This Cornell team is a band. It was a band in search of its genre. If we all have learned anything from Scream, it is that the one element of control that you have over your lot in life is that "you can pick your genre." This team has found its genre again. Hope you have plans to follow it on tour.

The rhythm of this team is not one of a high-tempo, driving beat, but rather a subtle, building, and seething angst. If this team at this moment were reduced to musical form, it would be a hard-rock band. Detroit is "rock city" and it is fitting that on senior weekend it took a Michigander to stoke the anthem of this team. John McCarron became a restless soul possessed by a chip, or anger, call it what you will, but he willed his team to its first point of the weekend from a two-goal deficit.

So, like all great frontmen, McCarron managed to cover for a less-than-stellar display. Cornell hockey fandom found the display on last Friday evening a little garish and hapless. The Red dominated the first period and did not convert on opportunities that may have put the Engineers down by just one or two goals but would have done a great deal to wound the psyche of Seth Appert's team. Hockey is a game of psychology and the Big Red did all it could to help RPI find balance at Lynah Rink. Louie Nanne did Louie-Nanne things (converting in less than two seconds on Cornell's lost puck battle along the boards) and another defensive zone misplay gave RPI control of the game.

Cornell's physicality disappeared in the second frame. Miscommunication and disorganization plagued the team's defensive-zone play like few other times this season. Perhaps it was all for a gratuitous display of bravado. Cornell spotted an opponent a two-goal lead, much like the week before, just to see if it could erase it again.

Well, it did erase it. It was fun. The image of John McCarron, in his Pink-the-Rink jersey, flailing his arms toward the rafters to goad the already boisterous student section to get louder is one that will remain with me.

As exciting as it was, it was much like that interlude or guitar riff in at least one song from all great hard-rock bands that seems like it may go a little too far. Not because it is not enjoyable or exciting, but because it is either too mainstream or untrue to the group's roots.

Friday's game was disloyal to this team's roots. So, against Dartmouth and RPI, Cornell proved that it can erase an opponent's two-goal lead. Let's not get fancy and do it often. This writer was surely not alone when thinking after the RPI game, "well, that was fun. Shall we not do it again?"

It is reassuring to know that this team can mount tremendous comebacks. Proving so does not need to become a habit. This team should bury that reality deep in its subconscious. It should be called upon only if it is needed in the playoffs. Defense is the cornerstone of this team as it is of this program. College hockey fans know that Schafer is a defensive mastermind. Ben Syer deserves tremendous credit for his contributions to the corps of defensemen and penalty killing unit.

If Schafer is the president, Ben Syer is the secretary of state. Just listening to Coach Syer for a moment and one becomes keenly aware that he is a perfectionist. This writer is convinced that Syer is not satisfied if Mitch Gillam or Hayden Stewart face even one Grade-A chance during the normal course of a contest. Such precision and attention to detail is to be lauded. One can see why Schafer trusts Syer to assist in managing what is the bread and butter of Cornell hockey.

Heck, at times, one who listens to Ben Syer's press conferences may conclude that he does not even want the Big Red to surrender any opposing shots in its defensive end. That goal may be unattainable, but it shows the lofty goals that Cornell's associate head coach sets from the crease outward for the Red. When events arise like Saturday when Schafer could not manage the bench, everyone knows that Cornell hockey is in able hands with Ben Syer and Topher Scott.

Perfection is the goal for and mantra of the carnelian-and-white defense. How has performance compared relative to aspiration? Cornell averaged allowing its opposition 29.62 shots per game in the first half of this season. That figure has dipped by a factor of 10.8% to an average of 26.43 shots allowed per game in the second half. That seems like it should be a favorable omen. A look deeper into the statistical performance of the team may bear ill omens.

A greater-than-10% decrease in number of shots that opponents have unleashed has not corresponded to a decrease in the number of goals allowed. In fact, opponents have been appreciably more proficient (27.8% more) at finding the back of the Red net than they were in the first half of the season. The Big Red allowed opponents to convert on an average of only 5.47% of shots in the first half. Challengers in the second half have averaged converting 7.83% of their shots into tallies on the scoreboard. This is alarming, especially for a team that lives and dies by patient defense.

One could conclude from this downturn that Cornell's defense has taken a step backward. The revolving door that injuries have pushed on the blue line could be to blame. However, championship season is approaching quickly, and finding a way to win is paramount. If the err lies in Cornell's more frequent surrendering of high-probability chances (a conclusion that finds little support in the observations of this writer), Schafer and Syer will remedy it. The likely culprit lies at the other end of the ice.

Cornell has done too much waiting and not enough pouncing in the second half. The Red has taken the game to its opponents less in the second half than it did during its run of success in the first. Illustratively, Cornell's average shots on goal for dropped between the halves.

To paraphrase a Schaferian cliché, the best defense is keeping the puck 180 feet away from your team's net. The Red has failed to do that as effectively in the second half. Cornell, as a team, needs to harness the driving tempo and reigned-in rage that fueled John McCarron's push for two goals to tie RPI and motivate his home crowd. If it does so, it can again take its game to its opponents.

Cornell's winning streak in the first half started with a series against Brown and Yale. Fittingly, Brown and Yale are the opponents that will close out the Red's regular season when Cornell looks to go on another run. The Bears and Bulldogs will not be willing catalysts. Brown has been the hottest team in ECAC Hockey since a week before Valentine's Day. The Bears own a 0.900 winning percentage since then and have not lost in five outings. The league's best defense over that run has been the backbone of the Bears's recent success.

Yale's game has not changed since earlier in the season. Its name may have changed from seasons past, but this squad of Keith Allain forges its success with solid defensive play. Far gone seems the era when Allain's team would be praised for its Tarasovian-like creativity and speed. Its disciplined, slower-paced, and defense-first antithesis is the new normal. The Elis are always a grand test for Cornell. One narrative emerges in this series. When your enemy becomes you, who has really won? Now, Cornell needs to make concrete results of that truism.

Last weekend, Jeff Kubiak proved very worthy of the high praise that this writer gave him. Kubiak nearly finished with an overtime goal the task that John McCarron began in the third period. A tight-angle pass from Buckles was rifled on net by Kubiak. The shot cleanly beat Kasdorf. It struck the far post squarely and took an Engineers's bounce. The sophomore's game continues to deliver the little things that Cornell needs. With moments like those, bigger things may be expected of him.

Jeff Kubiak was not the lone standout. The gritty and relentless play of Dwyer Tschantz has become equally common and disruptive for challengers. Tschantz tucked away Cornell's first goal against the Dutchmen by outmuscling Stevens in the crease. One would be hard pressed to find a goal more archetypically Cornellian than that one.

Finally, remember not converting on breakaways? John Knisley certainly did his best against Union to give the Lynah Faithful shared amnesia about the time when Cornell could not. If other sequences had not transpired, it may have been the antidote.

The RPI contest at Lynah Rink would have gone very differently had Cornell converted on a shorthanded breakaway in which Kasdorf gifted the Red skaters a succulent rebound. The psychological effect of that goal would have more than surpassed its statistical value. Knisley can try as he may (and, this writer hopes he does much more) to make us forget, but failure to convert on bountiful transition plays will mount to hurt the Big Red to an even greater degree in the playoffs.

The Red needs to take its game to its opponents. It should refuse to sit back like it has at times in the second half. This team should grow neither restless nor complacent in a close battle. Those are Cornell's games to win. A team that relies so much on passion while playing calmly needs to explode like a back draft filling a void when opportunities are given.

It is that special time of year again. On East Hill, it is the most exciting time for sports fans. This is when the mettle of our teams is tested. They are weighed and found to be better than their opponents. Okay, yeah, yeah, few spin this yarn about the postseason more than this writer. So, why does this writer find himself ambivalent about the beginnings of these playoffs?

The reason is multifaceted. And, I find myself likening the emotions to the recent hit Blank Space from Taylor Swift (as the title of this post implies). Hey, if the men can rely on Shake It Off for Pink the Rink, why can't I coast on Miss Swift's coattails and use her lyrics to capture the dichotomy of this season for the Lady Rouge?

Like the star-crossed lovers featured in Blank Space, the love affair between the Lynah Faithful and their team has been a tortured ecstasy-giving one. A four-loss slide began the regular season. This writer did not get down on this team, as any readers will recall. Coaches Doug Derraugh and Dani Bilodeau, and Paula Voorheis all reiterated that unlike the red-hot regular season of last campaign, their goal was to get better and crescendo toward and deep into the postseason.

This writer did not worry. I bought into it. It made perfect sense in terms of sports theory. The goal should be to reach peak performance at the right time because the ability of a team to keep that form for a prolonged amount of time, say, four weeks in February and March, is exceedingly rare. So, Where Angels Fear to Tread bore that torch proudly.

We were rewarded. Brown, Yale, and Colgate were defeated in seemingly easy order. The disciplined execution of Minnesota-Duluth proved too much for a team in its fourth week that sought to get better over the course of the regular season. Heck, the 2-0 loss in the second game felt almost uplifting because of the response it showed. It was all okay. It was part of the plan.

The streak began next. This is when the early-season narrative picked up epic amounts of steam. The clouds billowed for weeks. In 16 games, the Big Red suffered defeat but once. Cornell won 12 of those contests. Those victories were arranged neatly in three sets of four-game winning streaks. Each of the three included teams that were Cornell's equal or superior at that point in the season. All was according to plan, right?

The unraveling did not occur in the lone loss in that run. There was much to be proud of in that contest. The Red played with a very abbreviated bench when the Crimson scored two goals and added an empty-net tally. Paula Voorheis wowed fans of every partisanship that evening much like she did in New Haven. Crimson fans leaving the event rightfully were heard wondering if their preferred team really won if Voorheis outplayed Maschmeyer, Cornell had a shortened bench, and, according to them, most importantly, Jill Saulnier did not take the ice.

This is not a season recap or a postmortem, so a retelling of the dramatics of the victories over Colgate and Quinnipiac is not required. Senior weekend was when the unraveling occurred. Could there be a more alarming time than that for question marks to emerge? Two weeks removed from the playoffs, Cornell put itself in the midst of its worst losing slide since the beginning of the season. A zero-point weekend when the program sends off some of the most celebrated players in the modern era of Cornell hockey is unacceptable. Say what you wish about the disallowed goal against Dartmouth. Is a one-point senior weekend that much better?

Which team will take the ice in the postseason? The one that found a way to put over four times as many goals as Chelsea Laden averaged allowing past her to guarantee victory or the one that acted like an early goal would defeat an archrival buoyed by giving Boston College its first loss just days prior? From fanatical Lynah Faithful to hard-working clutch play, Cornell hockey is supposed to be on another plane in the postseason. However, only one of those efforts proximate to the postseason resembles what will be required to win in February and March.

All of which is why Taylor Swift blares in my ears right now. She is quite right. "Magic, madness, heaven, sin." All capture how this season has felt to this point. It is truly an exciting insanity, but certainly not the that one any of us expected by this point.

This was not supposed to be a down year. It has been already in one regard. The fourth seed with which this team enters the postseason is the lowest accompanying a Cornell team in five playoffs. The good news for the Lady Rouge is that Cornell hockey in general does not remember teams for their seeding or brackets. It remember them for their moments and triumphs. This team has the makings of one that can be triumphant, and this writer knows with its players, it will be memorable.

There is a corps of players who have made sure that this is not a down season.

Emily Fulton has made those outside of East Hill realize that she is a bona fide superstar of women's hockey. A better pure goal scorer cannot be found.

The celebrity that is Jess Brown has outgrown the twittersphere and playoff goal realm, and now explodes consistently on the scoreboard making her always tenacious efforts all the more obvious to even casual fans.

Taylor Woods does not get as much praise as she may deserve from any quarter. Anyone whose listened or watched a game should know that her name and number are integral to Cornell's success at both ends of the ice. This season, Woods has become a linchpin for this team's success.

Then, at the other extreme, there is the freshman phenom in carnelian. In all of college hockey, there is probably only one freshman whose name has been spoken more. Frankly, when Erin O'Connor is mentioned in opposing venues, one in particular, the air of foreboding is far greater than any associated with any other popularly referenced freshmen, deservedly.

Finally, Paula Voorheis's play warrants her nickname as "Big Paula." Last season, she was playoff-tested. This season, she has proven that she can steal games and keep Cornell in games when momentary lapses may have deserved another fate for the Red skaters.

The last four games of the season, including the disappointing senior weekend and the home-ice-preserving weekend in the Capital District, Cornell recorded 29 points. The senior class, representing 23.1% of the skaters who saw ice time, was credited with 62.1% of those points. Taylor Woods contributed over a quarter of the non-senior points. The new stars of Cornell hockey will be needed to drive any deep postseason push for this team.

These playoffs begin in trying fashion. This writer is not sure what other members of the Lynah Faithful or this team see in St. Lawrence, but what I see in St. Lawrence is the makings of another Mercyhurst. No, this is not a commentary of the style of play of the Saints compared to the Lakers. This is a psychological and strategic commentary.

Mercyhurst is the bane of Cornell's existence. It is to the women's program what New Hampshire has been to the men's program. It is a program that is historic, but less decorated, that slays our giants that were expected to claim national glory. A brief history. Cornell dominated the Lakers, 4-0, in the regular season of the 2012-13 season. The Big Red succumbed to them, 4-3, in the national quarterfinals at Lynah Rink. A win and a tie marked Cornell's record against Mercyhurst last season until the playoffs. The Lakers again defeated the Big Red at Lynah Rink to advance to the Frozen Four.

How is St. Lawrence the same or even remotely similar? The second wave of Cornell's postseason dominance (the first was 1976-81) began in 2010. The postseason in the East has belonged to Cornell since March 2010. The Big Red suffered only one postseason setback in ECAC Hockey tournament play since then. That setback? The 2012 ECAC Hockey Championship Final. The opponent? St. Lawrence at Lynah Rink.

The plot thickens when one considers that Cornell earned a win and a tie against St. Lawrence during the regular season. The same record that Cornell had earned against Mercyhurst last season. A record that may create a very, very dangerous sense of superiority and premature finality about this series with St. Lawrence.

Cornell cannot underestimate the Saints like it may have twice underestimated the Lakers. Otherwise, the Lady Rouge will suffer the same fate that it has two postseasons in a row to a nearly perfect analog to the Saints. Yes, it is true that this go-around, the Saints will need to claim two victories out of Lynah Rink rather than one like it needed in 2012. This Saints squad is very talented. Don't think so? Why did it finish in a tie for points in the regular season with the Big Red then?

Two games in the postseason from Lynah Rink is a tall task to ask from any opponent. St. Lawrence will be ready with its ladder. If Cornell gives St. Lawrence too much on the ice or give the Saints too little respect, the openings will be there for the Laurentians to shatter the dreams of the Cornellians. This Cornell team is great, but the last few weeks prove that it is mortal.

This writer will not regale you with statistics at this time. If the playoffs continue, there will be a time for that. However, this writer will say, and I am sure others among the Faithful share the sentiment, that we enter the postseason with a little more hope and a little less confidence than we have in recent seasons. We know better than we have other seasons that this run could be remembered forever or become a saddening collapse in proverbial flames. All is the curve of the playoffs.

The mindset of one of the team's leaders is certainly in the right place.

A new season begins. It is time for this team to write its narrative. The postseason is indeed a blank space. The blank space of opportunity. The vacuous blank space of uncertainty. The blank space on the ECAC Hockey Championship trophy where each team hopes to write its name. We find ourselves hoping that Cornell's latter-season triumphant run was not "a nightmare dressed like a daydream." And, that in March, we will realize "the high was worth the pain."

One point. The weekend can be summarized in two words, one figure. One point. Oh, but what a glorious point it was.

The point was sweet not just because it came against Harvard and grave odds, but because the way the weekend unfolded as one continuous narrative. The Red stumbled out of the gate in spectacular fashion. Not since the atrocious affair at Appleton Arena had Cornell done so much to put itself down so quickly.

Dartmouth converted on a blown defensive assignment in front of Mitch Gillam just 19 seconds after the puck dropped. The Big Green's relentless effort was more to credit on the second tally than the Red's mistakes. Nevertheless, a team living in the shadow of scoring woes buried itself below a two-goal mountain in the first eight minutes and 11 seconds of a roadtrip.

Cornell did something unexpected. Something that floored even this writer. It shook my easy-onset pessimism. The Big Red went to the locker room with the game even. This Cornell hockey team, the same team that has scored fewer than two goals in ten of its previous contests, the very team that took 184:44 to find its third goal of the season, found a way to get two goals in just over seven minutes. It was unbelievable. It happened.

I am very bullish on this team when it plays its game. The game for this team has been one of patience, biding time, and pouncing in transition. Surrendering a two-goal lead sacrifices all of those stratagems. Cornell found a way to do what I did not think was possible with a gritty but low-scoring, defense-first game plan. With more parts grit and tenacity than garish reliance on talent, Cole Bardreau and Joakim Ryan (yes, be forewarned ECAC Hockey, the wonder from the Garden State has potted one) connected to each other on the Red's two-goals-in-just-over-seven-minutes effort.

No matter how valiant the first-period effort was. A foolishly tenacious choice to press late in the third period generated a mismatch that Dartmouth's Eric Neiley converted. No moral victory for the Big Red could wipe Bob Gaudet's near-emoji-like grin (he must not have forgotten about 1980).

With the moon's reflection still glinting off of Gaudet's smirk in the rear-view mirror, Cornell packed up for Cambridge. It was at Harvard that Cornell nearly perfected its lesson from the weekend. Cornell scored first. Harvard put the Ithacans in a deficit two times. Each time, Cornell found an answer in decreasingly less time. A win would have been divine. A tie was satisfying.

A hard-fought 3-2 losing effort and a 3-3 tie made this writer believe. Why? Some things new emerged. A vicious desperation that demands that the team does what is necessary to grapple in the contest. Problems found their solutions in short time. Cornell never quit in either contest. The errors of the previous evening were corrected at Harvard. Cornell found a way.

The second half of this season has seen the diversification of Cornell's game. An eerie soothing approach that lulls opponents into a false sense of security and time has been improved with an ECAC Hockey-leading power-play unit. Opponents are lured still to their own demise, but now Cornell has more means by which to mine victories. Four of the seven league contests from which Cornell has gotten points saw the Schaferian power play convert on at least one opportunity.

The Red power play is lethal, but Cornell has not become overly reliant on it. It can be depended upon, but it is not needed. It is sufficient, but not necessary to Cornell's success. Frame it however you wish. The same can be said of Cornell's scoring during its most recent stretch run.

Cornell played ten games over the last month. A player in a carnelian sweater found the back of the net for the first time this season in five of those contests. Harvard was lucky enough to be the opponent that ushered two players in one game to the right side of the scoring column on Saturday. Only four skaters on Cornell's roster have not scored a goal. Two of those goal-less players have suited up for fewer than ten contests.

As the playoffs approach, offense by committee has become more than a talking point. Madison Dias, for example, broke his goal-less performance this season at Union. He has added already a breakway goal against Princeton in the short time of a month. The East-Hill natives have become a dangerous team from top to bottom.

Last weekend was one of efforts rewarded. This writer identified the horror of Joakim Ryan's and Jared Fiegl's tipping on the verge of breaking their scoring droughts. The nightmare that might have come was that both would be so desperately close with all of their skill to scoring, but not find their touch until it was too late. You can hit the snooze button on that alarm. It is not too late. Ryan scored on a cross-ice connection from Bardreau, a play befitting of the nation's most talented defenseman, against Dartmouth. Meanwhile, Fiegl decided that dramatics may typify his scoring when he roofed a game-tying shot past Michalek at Bright-Landry. Both have been working hard and deserved to gouge out their goose eggs in the goal column.

Fiegl was not the only one rewarded for tremendous efforts this season. Since the first period of the Frozen Apple against Penn State, Jeff Kubiak has generated considerable offense and contributed to the wearing down of opponents. It was Kubiak, not John Knisley, John McCarron, nor Joel Lowry, who first instilled fear in the hearts of the Nittany Lions. The Illinois native has been no less integral since Madison Square Garden. He deserved more obvious recognition for the new level of his game. He found his reward in the slot at Lynah East. A five-hole tally against Harvard is undeniable.

Keep an eye on Kubiak. His game is much improved from last season. He does the little things almost every shift that give Cornell the edge with which it wins. As good as Kubiak's play is, he is not the somewhat unexpected standout star of this team right now. From Chicago, one would need to traverse the paths of four Great Lakes to find this star's hometown.

Cole Bardreau is the standout of this team. The second half of the season has been his play thing. He has tallied four goals in eight games since he answered the goal of his former World-Juniors teammate on January 23. Bardreau has contributed at least a point in eight of the Big Red's 12 games since it resumed ECAC Hockey play. Half of those have been multiple-point outings for Cornell's yeoman.

Bardreau's pace places him among the eight highest point earners in ECAC Hockey in the second half. No player's style nor career fits better the mentality of this team. Cole Bardreau epitomizes grit and swagger. He plays with a chip. He outworks opponents. Having battled what could have been a life-threatening injury during his sophomore season, he has become a senior standout who shoulders a workload that few would have predicted him to carry early in his career.

None of his offensive improvement has come at the expense of his defensive-forward game that gained international attention at the 2013 World Juniors. Bardreau blocks shots and kills penalties like few forwards in college hockey. Like most of the great forwards in Cornell hockey history, his defensive game is as sound as his offensive game. His play on special teams has an added flash as he is tied for the team's lead in power-play goals and leads ECAC Hockey in number of second-half power-play goals. In other words, like this team over the season, Bardreau adapted his game to find success.

RPI and Union are two teams that most have written off undeservedly. The outing at Houston Field House proved why Cornell needs to afford the Engineers an abundance of respect. They are a fast, skilled team that can gel at any moment. Lapses that last mere shifts could spell the unraveling of a team if surrendered against RPI. Seth Appert's squad has not engineered a victory since demolishing Cornell. We all know how much cherry despises carnelian. It is about as much as Jason Kasdorf loves Lynah Rink. Give Troy's Winnipegger a great Lynah reunion.

The Dutchmen are on a three-game skid. Oddly, their slide is half as long as the one on the other side of the Hudson. However, Union cannot be taken lightly. The Dutchmen are the defending national champions. A team like Union whose roster knows only post-season success cannot be trusted to remain down. Union will be looking to play spoiler over its last four contests in anticipation of trying to mount a playoff defense of its three consecutive Whitelaw Cups.

Union will click at some point. Its roster foretells it. Union is the only ECAC Hockey team with five of the league's top-20 points-per-game producers. RPI and Union are tough opponents for the last weekend of the regular season at Lynah Rink. Friday is Pink The Rink. The Engineers should feel no less awkward and uncomfortable than they do in Lynah's carnelian glow. Saturday is Senior Night. The seniors deserve a character win before the festivities. Union will test resolve.

Last weekend proved one thing clearly. This team is ready to win. It will gnash and claw to claim victory. It did not even consider quitting when it collapsed behind a two-goal margin early at Dartmouth or gave Harvard two leads. Patience is a potent force for this team. It waits for its opponents to make mistakes. That is this team's default setting.

This writer learned something that he did not expect last weekend; something that Mike Schafer did not even expect. This team adapts even when playing with desperation. When forced out of its preferred style, Cornell erased three different leads in two days. Half of Cornell's wins this season have come after Cornell surrendered the initial goal. However, until last weekend, two in-game sequences began the drudging march to defeat: a deficit greater than one goal or surrendering a late third-period lead.

Those situations no longer relegate this team to disappointment. The energy with which this team relentlessly pursued victory was invigorating. Neither the length of the season nor hours less rest from a moved face-off time stifled the fire of this team. This team knows what it wants to do and what it needs to do to do it. It seems unfazed and unfatigued. Desperation and adaptability have become it. No wager against this team is safe.

Two entered. Neither fell. Well, unless you ask Michael Ledecky of The Harvard Crimson who likened the 3-3 tie at the Bright-Landry Hockey Center to the famous headline-generating Harvard-Yale 29-29 gridiron result of 1968. Most of the moral victories of the game were carnelian-hued. The dejection on the faces of the handful of Harvard fans in attendance proved that. So, Ledecky is absolutely correct in that regard. Cornell did in fact defeat Harvard, 3-3. One stubborn reality rears its head.

This contest differed in one key way from its November 23, 1968 analog. No, it is not the fact Agent K took no shifts at Bright-Landry. It is the fact that, unlike the game in the Fall of 1968, this is not the ultimate crescendo to a season's final stanza. Cornell and Harvard both have games in the regular season unplayed in a last push for seeding. Even more pointedly, there is the palpable sense from both sides that this was the penultimate chapter in the rivalry this season.

This may make more poignant Ledecky's point. The game may become an unraveling or a recalibrating for the vanquished and the victor. Will a losing tie motivate Harvard? Will a victorious stalemate sate a once-hungry Cornell? Will another demoralizing result prove anomalous the Crimson's win over Colgate? Did the Big Red find its sterner timber in late heroics? The lack of finality is what makes this last chapter in the Cornell-Harvard series most interesting. But, did either team leave the ice with what it needed?

This writer will not belabor the Harvard side of things. The gravity of a game and the trajectory of a season can be gleaned if a team's most talented players deliver. Jimmy Vesey tallied three points on Saturday. A puck did not find its way past Mitch Gillam without first touching Vesey's stick. Three points is not that gaudy for a player as talented as Vesey. Consider that three points equal Vesey's point production over all other games that he has played against Cornell. The leader of the Crimson may be finding his playoff form with his team in tow.

The psychological effects of Saturday's game for Cornell are immense. No, not just because the Red clutched a win from Crimson jaws. It is the manner in which it happened. The few Crimson fans (yes, there were fans there) knew more than the Lynah Faithful give them credit. A contingent of them confessed to this writer that it was their first game of the season in Bright-Landry. However, their inexperience belied actual knowledge, osmotic or learned. When Vesey tucked away Harvard's third goal with just 5:02 remaining in regulation, Harvard fans knew they had won.

It seems that far too often Cornell has found itself in that situation. The net ripples. Heavy heads turn to inspect the clock. Fewer than ten minutes remain. Time remains, but the game is over. It may shock you to learn that this sequence of events has happened but three times before Saturday's contest. Princeton, Quinnipiac, and Dartmouth scored goals in the final ten minutes of regulation. Cornell could not find the equalizer. It fell in each of those road contests.

This is not to say that Cornell has not attempted to make valiant comebacks. Red skaters score semi-regularly when chasing a game late in a contest. Need a comeback? Matt Buckles may be the forward to whom to turn. The sophomore has scored one-third of his goals late in the third period trying to mount a comeback. Despite his best efforts, he has failed to inspire a game-tying or game-winning rally. A late goal against Cornell was the Big Red's death sentence.

The Harvard fans in Cambridge knew that whether they were aware of it or not. The on-ice Crimson thought that they had made Cornell die by the same sword that enlivened the Ithacans at Lynah Rink. The Cantabs should have scored 4:22 later.

The public addresser had not finished announcing the last goal before he was backlogged. Teemu Tiitinen and Jared Fiegl did not make the Lynah Faithful wait long to ponder if this late goal would sink Cornell as three others had, including one the previous night. 1:03 was how long the Crimson enjoyed the belief that they had won the game.

Jared Fiegl, in a manner befitting the legacies of Murray Death and Mike Iggulden, found the puck settled just out of Michalek's reach. Fiegl buried it into the the top of the net above Michalek's ineffectual blocker. It was a syncopated commencement to one's collegiate scoring. It was the symphony's final chord.

The come-from-behind tie in the context of this season is as big as when Cornell finally proved against Yale and Brown that this team could score more than one or two goals. This edition of Cornell hockey is low-scoring. A late goal should be the death knell of its opponents. However, at this time of season, when the stakes of games appreciate, Schafer's team needed to prove that it would not be slain easily by the same blade. Proof of this is what Cornell carried from Lynah East.

A historic series that begs for moments from its modern participants, both skaters and spectators, found several that afternoon. The chickens continued their mid-Winter migration back to the ice of Cambridge. Ears of corn followed suit. Harvard fans were not the only ones engaging in hurling. Dodging the oncoming agrarian assault was captain John McCarron. Obviously, he took exception to the greeting. In a show of solidarity with the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences, the student of the College of Human Ecology collected a chicken on the blade of his stick and returned it to an unoccupied section near its source. This episode and its associated installment may become The One with the Re-return. Time will tell.

For the Crimson, it may be the beginning of an end to apathy. Michael Ledecky and Jake Meagher of The Harvard Crimson have been fighting the good fight against student-fan apathy along the Charles. Both at various times have called for the resurrection of a long-forgotten group of Crimson fans, the "Harvard Hares." I am not sure if contemporaries among the Lynah Faithful have any tales to share, but this writer would love to hear the Cornell side of when Harvard knew true support.

Admittedly, this writer may not speak for the majority of Lynah Faithful, but Harvard's final farewell to athletic apathy would be a welcome reality. Programs as great as those of Cornell and Harvard deserve loyal fan support. A rivalry as rich as the one that these two institutions share demands widespread bilateral, reciprocal involvement. So, come along br'er rabbits, oh the fun we shall have, from Cambridge to Ithaca, from Lake Placid to Boston.

Then the king commanded, and they brought Daniel, and cast him into the den of lions. Now the king spake and said unto Daniel, Thy God whom thou servest continually, he will deliver thee.

Yeah, I went there. I went all Biblical on you. If any series is deserving of Biblical proportions, it is this one.

This will not be one of those long-winded history pieces (sorry if you're in the market for one of those right now).

This is a raw, real mid-weekend check-in before the back half of the Cornell-Harvard regular-season series. As the Lynah Faithful brace for the trip into Lynah East (né Bright-Landry (né Bright (né Watson))), they may realize that this trip may be different. Harvard has the germ of a returning fanbase, which could make for a more interesting series. A former home-away-from-home for the Faithful may now more resemble the lions's den. One can hope, can't he?

Yeah, right, Harvard fans? What am I going to tell you next? The ushers will be leprechauns and unicorns will provide shuttle service to the doors? I anticipate those responses. To be fair, a more perfect analogy would be claiming that Homo habilis will man concessions while an apatosaurus serves as the boom for ESPN3 (it is on there, if you did not realize).

Harvard once had fans. The Harvard Crimson reported in 1956 that "[Harvard] College [has] developed one of the most vociferous groups of goaliehecklers in New England, and probably in the East." In Watson Rink's first season, "goalie Dick Marr commented that Harvard...had the worst knots of hecklers he had ever seen." The phenomenon was reported again after Watson Rink broke free of its cocoon and became Bright Hockey Center. "The spirit of Watson's Section 18 lived on," declared The Crimson. The "spirit" spoken of has remained more as an incorporeal spectre than a driving zeal for more recent generations. Perhaps, after these renovations, the Lynah Faithful will have more than empty space and rented bands to compete with for control of a venue whose identity through no amount of rebranding could be anything other than Lynah East.

The implied question at the opening remains. What are Cornell and Harvard? Which is the lions? Which is Daniel?

No, this is a far-from-perfect simile. Neither Steve Hagwell nor Robin Harris is Darius I. And, despite what our friends at Without a Peer may jest, we do not deify Mike Schafer (demigod status is sufficient, no?). Schafer's system is not revealed.

However, like the Biblical lions's den, that rink at 65 North Harvard Street, Boston, MA 02163 will become a place of pitted wills where aplomb and calmness likely will tilt the balance. What will deliver each is playing their game and forcing their opponents to accept the seemingly inevitable. Harvard explodes. Cornell bides its time. Which game will be played?

Harvard is hyper-motivated headed into this contest. The Crimson has been trapped in those 40.3 seconds since John McCarron blocked Harvard's last threatening dump of the puck into Cornell's zone in January. Sean Malone intimates as much, "Cornell is a huge rivalry game. Usually guys get more pumped up about these games than any others. We certainly want to win."

Harvard is deflated, not defeated. Any team that expects to walk over the Crimson, especially Cornell, is a fool that will not enjoy blissful ignorance. Harvard's games since Lynah Rink have included two brutal, merciless throttlings of Colgate. Yeah, Colgate, the same Colgate that the vast majority of league followers chose to win an ECAC Hockey title. A loss to a Yale squad that has Harvard's number. Cornell knows how it feels when Keith Allain goes on a streak against your program.

So, remaining are losses to Frozen Four favorite Boston University, defending national champion Union, and perennial season ruiner Brown. Yeah, that loss to Boston University? Don't read too much into it. It may give you nightmares. Michalek delivered a transcendent 63-save effort. Questionable calls were enjoyed and endured. The point? Harvard is very good.

Harvard is one moral uplift away from clicking into its postseason form. A consolation-round meeting with Boston College was postponed. A win in that contest could have served as a spark and alleviated some of the passion in this contest. No win will help a team right its course more than one against a historic foe. Ted Donato and Paul Pearl are well aware that a win over Cornell, in a heated building, with seeding implications, in a series steeped in history, will galvanize this Harvard squad. Let's hope Cornell and the Lynah Faithful are not an accommodating crucible.

Ah, Cornell. We knew your hockey well. 'Twas but mere weeks ago.

It would be a lie to say that this Cornell team might not need a win over Harvard to find its bearings. Last weekend was the perfect embodiment of the concept that one does not always get what one deserves, but may get things that are not one's just deserts. The Big Red deserved a win, or at least a tie, against Quinnipiac for its efforts. Princeton, meanwhile, outplayed Cornell for most of that contest. Cornell's results were inverted from the effort that it put forth.

That inversion may have been damning in this weekend's contest against Dartmouth. The excuse of the impeding game against Harvard is no shield to this criticism. Cornell, much like it did at Appleton Arena, was mentally unprepared to begin the contest at Thompson Arena. Two quick goals put Cornell down by enough to make the difference.

Cole Bardreau was the cream of Cornell's crop. Playing with a grit, focus, and tenacity that resembled his form against Harvard, Bardreau wanted to win. However, on this bus there were too many passengers. They played musical chairs with their lapses. The Big Red overall did not deserve to win.

Yes, it was tremendous to see Cornell surrender a two-goal deficit and then erase it within the same period. There are no moral victories at this time of year when playoff form is being honed. What it means is simple, another weekend passes in which Cornell will not get a sweep. No matter the result against Harvard. As the leadership of this team reminds us, a loss erases a win. Well, the Red began this weekend with a deficit.

This game will be fun. It is one of the great spectacles in sports. It will be even more enjoyable if Harvard alumni and students appear for it. It will append a torn and tattered chapter of this rivalry's saga. Harvard's fanbase rightfully is growing. This Crimson team is talented. Like all great Crimson teams since 1910, it must test its mettle against Cornell.

That question lingers yet. Who will be the lions? Who will be Daniel? Which team will be the once-dangerous foe that faith and conviction topples? One outcome is known. Like Daniel, both teams in this lions's den will find truth. The truth of what this season means.

Face-off has been moved to 4:00 pm. Adjust your travel plans accordingly. It may be the last time to cajole and collaborate with our compatriots from Cambridge on their own hallowed turf. Do not fret if you cannot make it. We all know that if all goes according to plan for these two archnemeses, they will meet again in the postseason.

Let's make sure that it is the Crimson, not the Red, who has the more difficult route to the reunion.

P.S. Check out the historical murals that were added during the renovations of the Bright-Landry Hockey Center. They do a great credit to a great program that serves as the foil to Cornell's proud hockey tradition. Yes, a few of Harvard's celebrated moments come at the expense of the Red, but Cornell has won more than it has lost.

Rivalries are at their best when they consume entire cultures. The purest form of antagonism is contradistinctive refutation.

The repartee between the students of the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences at Cornell University and those of Harvard College is focal now. The narrative unfolds with the choice of many associated with Harvard College to ridicule academic standards at Cornell University because of the proximity of a practical and, more alarmingly according to some, agricultural education to the more traditional fora of liberal education. A chicken was lobbed to prove the point. Fish followed.

Focusing upon this blinds one to what germinally distinguished Cornell and Harvard Universities. It was not Cornell's being a land-grant university that raised the ire of Harvard. Both Brown and Yale Universities sought, and realized for a short time, status as land-grant institutions of their respective states. Although Harvard's sensibilities are often far wiser than those of the other two Ivy League brethren, the Cantabs do not go too far adrift. Practical education was not the principal point of friction. Opportunity was.

Cornell University afforded all persons who bore the proper merits the right to be educated at "the great American university." Harvard University insulated Harvard College from such bold steps. Co-education of women was particularly perplexing to the Cambridge-based university. The students and administrators of Harvard College did not demean their legacy with resort to the polemics of subjugation. Harvard was unlike other universities with which Cornell shared actual hostilities in this way.

Harvard moved glacially nonetheless. Gradualism and slow integration was its chosen course. A course that Cornellians found repugnant to their sensibilities. Women were able to attend Cornell University since it first accepted students in 1868. Women did not receive the same treatment at Harvard College until 1972. The cultures of the two converged despite this difference.

Hockey has been the great unifier of the Northeast's great institutions since the early 1900s. Cornell and Harvard were the class of the eventual Ivy League. The fanbases of both institutions expected greatness in all things. An enduring truth emerged. Football may be the Ivy League's sport. Hockey is its passion.

It was in this regard that the Cornell-Harvard rivalry, based on ice, became the greatest in college athletics. Ironically, when this statement is defended, one turns to the voluminous annals of the Cornell-Harvard series in men's ice hockey. What should no longer be overlooked is the purity of the Cornell-Harvard rivalry in women's ice hockey representing the real clash of ideals between two vaunted programs and two august institutions.

The contests between Cornellians and Harvard women have been steeped in tradition, lore, and pride from their first face-off.

Raising the Stakes

Cornell University was novel. The first female student enrolled in 1870. Demand for female physical activity and athletics arose almost immediately. Sage Hall opened in 1875 to house the women who came to partake in Ezra Cornell's and Andrew Dickson White's grand experiment. The exceptional accommodations offered at Sage included a gymnasium and swimming pool for female athletic activities. Why should female athletes remain relegated to the indoors when their male counterparts dazzled crowds on the frozen pond?

There was no reason why, especially at Cornell University. Hockey showed the potential to become Cornell's game before the Big Red's perfect championship season in 1911. Its popularity only grew after that historic triumph. Proving what has become the norm of women at Cornell University, from alumnae as varied as Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Rebecca Johnston, a rendition of Annie Get Your Gun's "Anything You Can Do" ensued. It was not long for female Cornellians to catch up.

The first organized women's ice hockey team took the ice of Beebe Lake in 1919. Its meetings were sporadic. Its opponents were only intramural because it was unique. There was no intercollegiate hockey competition. Interest in intramural hockey for women waxed and waned until hockey was all but banned on Beebe Lake in 1948. For nearly three decades, Cornell iced women's hockey competitions 36 years before Brown University ushered in the modern era of women's ice hockey.

The construction of Lynah Rink resurrected the tradition of the men's ice hockey program in 1957. The culture of women's ice hockey at Cornell was not so easily rescued. It laid dormant until 1971. Regina Baker helped inspire the creation of the team and recruit its first coach. The Big Red of Cornell became the third-oldest program in the modern era of women's ice hockey after only the teams of Brown University and Colby College.

One century and one year after the first female pupil avowed her loyalty to "our noble alma mater," female students were training to compete in intercollegiate hockey contests. The terms of "Harvard woman" or "coed," a phrase whose suggested place of coinage is East Hill, were oxymoronic at Harvard for another year. Women's hockey would take longer to take root in Cambridge.

The Ivy League began sponsoring hockey in the 1975-76 season. With so few members, the League forewent its customary choice of selecting a champion through a round-robin tournament and elected for a quasi-postseason tournament. Cornell compiled an all-time record of 30-15-0 and an in-season record of 8-5-0 before the inaugural Ivy League tournament.

Brown and Yale were the first postseason victims to the Lady Rouge. Predictably, Brown and Cornell, as the oldest and most entrenched programs, were the last two standing in the tournament. The former Pandas fell, 3-2. Harvard was unrepresented in the next two Ivy League tournaments.

Cornell won the 1977 and 1978 Ivy League championships. The dominance of the Red was growing, as was its winning margin in the playoffs. Harvard entered the fray of Ivy League women's ice hockey the next season. The playoffs were the beginning of an unraveling. Six wins, six losses, and one tie marked the success of Harvard's first female hockey team before the 1979 Ivy League tournament. Brown and Dartmouth would sweep the Crimson out of the tournament. The Cantabs would add three more losses to close its first season.

Cornell played the same teams in the tournament. Harvard fell by a combined margin of seven goals allowed to four scored. The Big Red more than reversed that margin, downing the Big Green and Bears by a combined nine goals scored to three allowed. Cornell won the tournament again.

The results were the same the next season. Harvard fell to Brown and Yale. Cornell defeated Brown and Princeton. Cornell could not seem to lose its luck in the playoffs and Harvard could not seem to find it.

The next season did very little to alter that narrative. The Crimson fell in two overtime contests to Dartmouth, then Yale. Cornell obliterated Dartmouth with five goals to which no Big Green skater could find an answer. The championship game ended after four overtimes. Neither Cornell nor Brown could wrest from each other a win. Both were declared champions.

The 1982 Ivy League tournament was the tournament to end all tournaments. No, that is not hyperbole. The Ivy League announced before the 1981-82 season that the 1982 postseason tournament would be the last to determine the Ivy League champion. Cornell had won all of the Ivy League championships. Cornell won five out of those six tournaments outright.

Bill Duthie, a former captain of the Big Red, helmed the carnelian and white for his tenth season. Harvard had in John Dooley its third coach in just four seasons of existence. From the perspective of continuity of leadership, it would appear that Cornell had the advantage if the two programs were to meet. When the season commenced, neither line caller, no matter how insightful, could have predicted how memorably it would come to a close.

The regular seasons for both programs did not unfold as expected. Duthie never had led a Cornell squad to anything but a winning season. The makings of a mediocre season became apparent early. Princeton had in freshman Patty Kazmaier the makings of a great player, but a 10-4 loss was unacceptable on East Hill. The Big Red had not lost to the Tigers in five years. The omens remained ill until the end of the season approached.

High expectations remained abated for Harvard women's ice hockey. A first-year coach scarcely could be expected to right all wrongs in one season. The weight of a program 19 games below 0.500 in just three seasons could not be lifted in one fell swoop, could it? No one told John Dooley's Crimson that it could not.

The prologue was written by February 27, 1982. Cornell was in the throes of its worst season. Harvard could not end the season with a losing record. Harvard had twice as many wins as did Cornell in the same number of games. Both programs knew that the playoffs were a different mindset. Cornell had never lost in the Ivy League tournament. Harvard had never won.

Harvard's spectacular regular season purchased a day's rest for the Crimson skaters. The Big Red was forced to begin without the bye to which it had grown accustomed since the bye's advent. It had stars on its roster. Digit Degidio and Diane Dillon were carnelian scoring menaces. Digit was in the midst of her second season of scoring more than 30 goals. Sarah Mott was a reliable backstop. Duthie had no doubt that his squad would shine.

Brown could not do much to keep Cornell's playoff form in check. The traditional power and the perennial runner-up grappled in the last Ivy League tournament's first round. The Lady Rouge advanced to compete against a rested Harvard. Cornell may have lost more in its defeat of Brown than it gained.

The evening before the historic first meeting of the women's ice hockey of Cornell and Harvard Universities should have been dedicated to the weight of the coming contest. The two great hockey powers of the East whose male counterparts had doled out triumphs and disappointments to one another for 60 years were on the brink of their first meeting. John Dooley may have discussed this storyline with his team. Bill Duthie did not.

Sarah Mott, Cornell's mainstay goaltender, was injured during the first-round game against Brown. The Big Red had no back-up goaltender for the Pittsburgh native. Duthie was headed in to a contest that would commence a series of epic proportions. The night before which, he simply was trying to decide which warm body to put in Cornell's crease.

The carnelian contingent skated to center ice as its members were announced at Thompson Arena on February 27, 1982. The partisans wearing a deeper shade of red were shocked to see that it was Diane Gregoire who tended the opposing crease. Gregoire served as Cornell's manager. Befitting the drama of a great series, it was Duthie's improvisation to tap his team manager that left the first impression before the puck struck the ice.

The Cornellians's defense smothered the Harvard women. Duthie's directive was to make sure that Gregoire was challenged as little as possible. An often offense-first team stifled a rested Harvard team on the large ice surface. Dillon was the star. She notched a goal for Ezra's and Andrew's grand experiment in each of the periods.

Gregoire served admirably. The Crimson penetrated Cornell's defense with 34 shots. The team manager stopped 31.

Overtime saw Harvard cling to hopes that neither Dillon would add to her hat trick nor Degidio would find the back of the net. The odds did not seem in Harvard's favor at times. Pressuring the Crimson's Cheryl Tate and safeguarding Diane Gregoire was a greater imperative as Cornell needed to win the game in overtime. Frantically trying to rewrite its script, the Red would not.

The game advanced past overtime. A complete team effort made Diane Gregoire, who entered the contest with very little notice or mental preparation, stand as an equal to one of the élite goaltenders in women's ice hockey at that time. There was one scenario in which Cornell's collected, disciplined effort could not shore up its perceived weakness.

A shootout decided the result of the first meeting between the women's hockey programs of Cornell and Harvard. Gregoire stopped one of Harvard's five shooters. Tate stopped three of Cornell's salvos. Harvard won.

The Crimson would lose its final contest to Princeton in the Ivy League championship game. The Tigers downed Harvard by a 6-2 margin. A twist of fate contributed to Harvard's loss. In a day's time, Duthie's quandary became that of Dooley. Cheryl Tate was injured in the Cornell contest. She was unable to play. Harvard fared worse than did Cornell relying on an untested netminder.

The victory over Cornell was the biggest in the short history of Harvard hockey. John Dooley was pleased with the performance of his team despite a season-ending trouncing courtesy of the Tigers. Dooley's joy was apparent when he recalled defeating Cornell. He stated that he "would be more than happy if we could ever duplicate a season like this one."

The sentiments on East Hill were quite the opposite. The women of Cornell hockey suffered its first losing season in its decade-long history. The Big Red's opportunity to win every Ivy League tournament ever played slipped through the fingers of Ithaca's skaters. Cornell won six of the seven Ivy League tournaments.

Cornell lost its first playoff game at the hands of institutional foil Harvard. Harvard earned its first playoff victory at Cornell's expense. The rivalry has experienced periods of simmering and eruption ever since that controversial decision in 1982.

Cornell and Harvard have played 80 times in 33 years. The Red and Crimson have clashed in 15 postseason meetings.

An interconnected tradition was forged in the first meeting between Cornell and Harvard. Like most interactions of the institutions of the two universities, the stakes were high. The cornerstone of women's hockey at Cornell was equal opportunity. The cornerstone of women's hockey at Harvard was quarried from a victory over the Red.

These contests matter because, like all great rivalries, more is at stake than the game. Ethics and identities collide.

Cornell has been playing well. The results are not entirely synced with the effort on the ice yet. However, the Big Red has battled and executed at a very high level since its series of implosions in Troy. Four complete games have passed in which this team has acquitted itself well with the legacy of the carnelian and white. Yes, it is true that over two weekends, the Big Red did suffer one loss and one tie. However, the effort on the ice was there finally at a consistently high level.

Losing is painful. It is annoying. What really raises the ire of this writer is losing without dedication; surrendering without a fight. Cornellians never should do that. There were a few games this season when a dedicated fan would find himself wondering, "do they even care?" That question has been absent from the minds of the Lynah Faithful during this second half.

Outrageous fortune lobbed its slings and arrows at this team during the last two weeks. A penalty shot and three strange goal reviews went against Cornell in the games that yielded less-than-desirable results. Cornell was not without fault in all of those sequences, specifically a blown defensive assignment and necessary reaction led to the penalty shot. Let this not become a diatribe about questionable calls, because the team never did.

Fate dealt Cornell a blow in its recent loss and tie, but Cornell grappled back. Cole Bardreau's grit laid over from the Harvard game in spurring the Red's comeback attempt against the Big Green. The effort fell short, but there was no doubt that this team and its alternate captain wanted to win. The same could be said of John McCarron's goal as a passion-driven response to a disallowed goal. The team did not quit. A team like that is the type of team one should look forward to seeing in the playoffs.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves. The rungs of seeding remain to be climbed.

The surprising underpinnings of this new tenacity is that it has arisen during a rash of injuries. Cornell's roster consists of 24 skaters. A total of 22 skaters have dressed just since January began. The only skaters who have not dressed during the second half of the season are Joel Lowry and Eric Sade. Both are out indefinitely due to injury.

From the eight games that the healthy mainstays have played to the two contests for which players like Alex Rauter were called upon to fill crucial voids, every player who has taken the ice over the last few weeks has bought in to the process. They have done so absolutely. Every player has rotated in and out with little effect on an entire game's effort.

Whether matched against respected Crimson foe Jimmy Vesey, or the overhyped Seussian-like Spink 1 and Spink 2, every player has played his role on the team at a considerably high level. Yes, lapses have led to goals, but in all frankness, some of these players who have filled in nearly seamlessly were not expected to be called on to player either because of injury or development. Nonetheless they played and did well.

Consider Alex Rauter. He has played as many games in the last three games as he did during the entire first half of this season. Over his appearances in those three games, he has not been on the ice for any goals against despite the opposition's scoring seven goals in the games for which he has pulled the Cornell sweater over his head. His play may be refining as games develop and his ice time somewhat reduced, but he has played a key, but popularly neglected, role in helping Cornell's recent successes.

Then, in the greatest shock of the freshman class, Dan Wedman has stepped up as a defensive phenom. Wedman has proved that good things come from Alberta for the Big Red in a big way. His play was most astonishing in dismantling Harvard. With the skill of a drilled explosives expert, he disarmed the Crimson's most dangerous lines and plays.

Schafer rightfully has pointed the spotlight on Wedman as a star on this team. His team defense is calm-inducing. No matter which line in college hockey may be bearing down on Cornell's defensive zone, the Lynah Faithful should find placidity in seeing the carnelian 20 minding its back half. Wedman's rise is not surprising in its altitude, but its earliness.

One could anticipate that he would be this good. However, seeing him this good at this early stage is astonishing. Everyone in ECAC Hockey should be taking note of his exceptional defensive play, even if he has not appeared on the score sheet.

When Patrick McCarron went down against RPI and Reece Willcox followed against Harvard, the pressure fell on stars like Jacob MacDonald and Joakim Ryan to fill the void. They could not do it alone. Wedman picked up some of the workload, but Ryan Bliss was not to be left out.

Yes, Bliss' scoring recently has given him right to a few verses already in the saga that is being sung of this team, but the acclaim for his defensive skill remains relatively mum. It is easy to get lost in his offensive presence and willingness to enter the game. It is even more tempting right after he scored an overtime, game-winning goal against Colgate in a game during which he sustained a questionable hit. Don't let his being the highest-scoring defenseman on this team distract from the huge strides he has taken in defensive responsibility during the course of the season.

Trust me, this list will not contain only freshmen, but Dwyer Tschantz has proven that he has come to play Cornell hockey with an edge. His size is an asset and has proven not to be a liability at all this season. He is aggressive around the net. He has become the archetypical Big Red hockey player with not only his ability but his desire to win the little battles that tilt the balance.

Then, there is the triplet. We all know the members. We know when they are on the ice. However, when talking about the pivotal moments of any game, few of us will mention their names. Well, on a partial change, the one found a way for us to not help but mention his name.

Dias, Tiitinen, and Freschi. Maddy, Teemu, and Mr. Clutch. Call them what you will. When Cornell is in a lull or is having trouble penetrating the opposition's defense, they are the best bet to tilt the ice. The three have racked up only five points between them. They may not be the line that scores the goals, but they will stem the tide or start the rally.

The once-unscoring Captain may no longer deserve inclusion in a post so entitled. He sits here nonetheless. Too much can be made of individual scoring. As long as the team is focused, motivated, and winning collectively, John McCarron has done his job. His legacy wearing the C at Cornell will be decided not by how many goals he scores, but if he leads this team to victory and with what character he instills in his teammates.

Having said all of that, with a booming shot that can be heard or felt (ask Shawn Hunwick) all the way to his home state of Michigan, it is great to see his offensive talent as a threat that opponents must revere. However, The Captain's contributions go far beyond that. His blocked shot at the end of the Harvard game that forced the Crimson out of Cornell's zone was second in importance only to the game-winning goal that Freschi scored.

He harasses goalies and outcompetes skaters along the boards. He proved that despite recent cutbacks that Theatre Arts are alive and well still as "any study" (ask Teddy). In short, after a game in which his team was flailing and disorganized against RPI, John McCarron has made sure that his team has arrived to each subsequent contest ready to battle and compete until the bitter end. It is fun to watch him score. His leading attitude will be his legacy.

If this team is so resilient and so many unsung players have played so unexpectedly well, then why has Cornell not swept a weekend? Mistakes have been neither systematic nor widespread, but individual. The effort of a whole team cannot be damned, especially at this early stage, for individual missteps. Yes, in the playoffs, the curve is that harsh. There is no grade inflation here. But, this is the regular season, and corrections can still be made.

Cornell has not played a perfect game. It has been close to a weekend sweep. Look at last weekend. Cornell is on the verge of tipping toward greatness or plateauing at competitiveness. A decision is near. A sense of inevitability seems to weigh in favor of the former. Think of it like Fiegl or Ryan scoring. We knows it is so close to happening that the anticipation may kill us. However, the possibility of it never happening is frighteningly real. Choices must be made.

Last weekend, this team played its vintage hockey. Can a team have a vintage style only this far in? I think that it can. On Friday, Cornell surrendered the lead. In a fashion that is now typical of this team, it did not get concerned. Panic was absent from the faces of Mitch Gillam to John McCarron to Mike Schafer. Cornell won that contest.

The Big Red ground Colgate finer than the abrasives in toothpaste. Lying in wait, the team anticipated the opportunity to pounce. Knisley and Bliss were the names of the claws sunk into the Raiders. Cornell dominated Colgate for five of the six periods. For the third time in four games, it was the Red that outshot the celebrated offense of its opponents.

Sound defense and opportunistic capitalizing on opponent's mistakes underwrite this team's victories. Colgate head coach Don Vaughan recognized the lethality of Cornell in transition upon watching tape. His team suffered its effects once.

Colgate was the team expected to reign as ECAC Hockey's champion. Cornell took three points out of a possible four points from its series against the Hamiltonians. This team has not yet determined if that series was three points gained, in the modesty that some want imposed on this era of Cornell team, or one lost, in the self-assuredness of Cornell legends.

Author

Where Angels Fear to Tread is a blog dedicated to covering Cornell Big Red men's and women's ice hockey, two of the most storied programs in college hockey. WAFT endeavors to connect student-athletes, students, fans, and alumni to Cornell hockey and its proud traditions.